


Enduring

by afterandalasia



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
Genre: Atlantis, Biting, Bruises, Character Death Fix, Character Study, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She writes her survival on his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enduring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kink Bingo prompt "Bites & Bruises". AU where Helga survives, but with considerable injuries.

She writes her survival on his skin.

She still remembers opening her eyes to find herself surrounded by Atlanteans. “You gotta be kidding me,” she had just about managed to drawl. How the fall did not kill her outright, she still does not know, but somehow the people of Atlantis dragged her from the rubble and saved what they could of her shattered body. Of course, even Atlantean technology was not perfect; on her good days, she could walk with crutches, but most of the time it was frankly impossible.

But she had survived, and found herself alive in the underground city of Atlantis.

Of course they had not trusted her. Helga would not have trusted herself, in the same circumstances, but mercenaries are mercenaries and the truth of it is that they are the only people to whom she could anchor herself now. So she hands them what she can in return for her survival: knowledge of the world above, especially the machines and weapons which Milo does not really understand.

She wears the pendant and thinks that it looks ridiculous. She wears their clothes, and thinks that she looks ridiculous. Milo definitely looks ridiculous, but considering that is a step up from how he was before, she supposes that she can understand how he can bear that.

Eventually, she meets Erakhdyn. Apparently, he is four hundred years old, but this seems to be nothing to Atlanteans so Helga tosses the thought aside as well. She starts off by teaching him about wire and circuits, to see if the power of the crystal really can work like electricity. Somewhere along the line, he makes the first move and kisses her.

She can’t remember the last time that a man made the first move with her.

She almost expected him to be tentative, gentle. She did not expect his teeth to sink into her lower lip, his hands to clench hard around her back. Did not expect them to make their way to bed within just days – doubtless the equivalent of the first date to an Atlantean.

But then again, it was her that he was showing interest in. Clearly tentative was not the order of the day.

She cannot pin him down or throw him to the bed, as she has done with her previous partners. Conquests. Instead she digs her fingers into his skin, bites down on his shoulder or lip or chest, pushes and pulls him around. At any point, he could say no, but he does not even fight her when she slaps or massages the bruises already starting to show, in order that they will stay there for longer.

Like many Atlanteans, Erakhdyn has tattoos on his body, a shining bright blue that she has never seen before. One day, she supposes, they might trust her enough, or accept her enough, to offer her such tattoos as well. But for now, she has only her scars to show for her past.

Alongside the tattoos, she writes herself across Erakhdyn’s skin, her survival, her anger, her resolve. What power she has, she uses on him, and watches red, purple, black mark across his chest and slowly fade to the eyes, though her fingers can search out the tender points for longer.

They exchange smiles, and she kisses him on the lips, sweet and with the promise of venom. His bruises are hers as well, in their own way, and through them she can walk freely through the city. At night, though, while her lover – lover, there is a strange word indeed – sleeps beside her, she traces over the marks she has left on him, these temporary tattoos like whispers beside the Atlantean heritage he declares, and feels something peculiarly close to content.


End file.
